Miracles of Dawn
by Persephatta
Summary: He had been a fool to think that a demon like him could ever receive the love of an angel without divinities wrath punishing him, especially after all the trouble he had caused. This was his punishment; and he couldn't help but feel like he deserved it…but she didn't. Scott/Dawn Dott. Some Angst but not much. Slight AU


**Title: **Miracles of Dawn

**Genre: **Romance (near Tragedy but without)

**Rating: **T (includes strong language)

**Pairing: **Dawn and Scott, Dott

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Total Drama or any of the characters involved in this fic.

**A/N: **I'll say this now, this story is kind of a ramble of thoughts and emotions centring around Scott. Really, there isn't much interaction between Dawn and Scott but I like writing their relationship from Scott's point of view – seeing things through the darker shades of grey rather than Dawn's bright white. It has a plotline though I think it might lack a structure, really I think this probably has quite a few loose ends.

**But I'll let you decide…**

* * *

**"_The darkest hour is just before the dawn._"**

xxx

He was a fool.

Something he strived to avoid being and still somehow managed to end up as one.

He aimed to be cunning, devious, and yet somehow it always wound up with him looking like an idiot.

Still, as long as she was there to giggle sweetly and generously save his dignity he didn't mind so much.

But she wasn't there now, and this was a foolishness he couldn't simply shrug off with a frustrated grunt.

He was a fool to think that after all his antagonism he could continue to live a happy fulfilled life and not suffer greater consequences then a hazardous encounter with a mutant man-shark.

He was a bad person, he had done bad things.

He hadn't necessarily done illegal things but he had done bad things.

And now he was paying the price for his actions; only someone else seemed to be as well.

xxx

He had never let anyone get too close to him; compassion was a weakness which would flaw his plans. He had only found space in his shrivelled black heart for his Pappy and that was more out of respect than actual affection. So when the old man bit the dust he hadn't shed many tears on the matter, finding alcohol to be a better solution to blocking out the unwanted emotions until a certain blonde beauty snapped him out of his drunken state and forced him to talk about it. He had quickly gotten over it, mainly because he couldn't stand anymore counselling sessions from her.

But overall he didn't do touchy-feely emotions; they just made him want to throw up. Although, they did come in handy when manipulating others, but really, they just weren't for him.

What he hadn't counted on was a Green Goddess with beautiful flowing platinum hair and the freakish ability to "read auras" forcing her way into his perfectly ordered life, and messing everything up.

She ruined everything.

Completely destroyed all his plans, placed herself at the top of his mental hit list, and made him fall for her, hard.

He hated her.

He hated how she would always point out whenever something he did was morally wrong. He knew that already; that was why he was doing it. She couldn't seem to grasp that he wasn't a nice person, she called him a jerk (though in more sophisticated words) often enough and yet she still acted surprised whenever he did something "bad". Why was it so hard for her to accept that she couldn't change him?

Only she could.

Not in an extreme way but he could tell she had changed him for the better, much to his chagrin. He found himself being more considerate towards others and actually deciding not to do certain things because he knew they weren't right. She had basically brought his conscience back in full bloom after it had taken him years to crush that thing – it was really annoying, a little voice constantly nagging in his ear about right and wrong – well, now he had _her_ for that!

He hated her…a lot.

How she would try to read him and then inform him of her findings, which she was annoyingly often correct about. He wished she couldn't read him so well, he tried to hide how he felt as best he could, and sometimes he would succeed, a smirk appearing on his face when a stumped look showed itself on hers. But then she'd fix him with those big beautiful eyes and he'd be defeated, again.

He really hated her.

Hated her constant yammering about the environment.

Hated how she always seemed to give her brightest and best smiles to Beverly (someone who didn't even know how to sweet talk).

Hated how she would never leave him alone when he "asked" (in less polite terms), and hated when she did…and how he would miss her, then force himself to find her and apologize, just so he could suffer the lesser torment of her being around then her not being around.

There was a great amount of hate he felt for her.

But what he hated most was that he couldn't hate her, because he loved her.

He hated how he had turned into one big cliché.

And yet, right now he would relive all those things he hated, all those things that bugged him, all of it, all over and over and over and over…and over…again, just for her to be there.

Even if she wasn't with him, even if she was with someone…like Beverly (how he hated that guy)…just so she was there, then he would endure all of that…because at the moment she wasn't there…

…and he wasn't sure if she ever would be again.

xxx

"_There's been an accident."_

xxx

He hated hospitals.

Always had; ever since his older sister Claire had died giving birth to a baby some sleaze had knocked her up with before ditching her upon hearing the news. His new-born nephew hadn't even lasted longer than seven minutes. It hadn't been a good day for him.

And now he was in one again because of the second (well first now) most important girl in his life, only this time he was under no delusion.

He had never believed in the diviner forces, but if one existed he was certain it was punishing now.

He had been a fool to think that a demon like him could ever receive the love of an angel without divinities wrath punishing him for being given a gift he did not deserve, especially after all the trouble he had caused in the past.

This was his punishment; nothing else could top the agonising pain this caused him, and he couldn't help but feel like he deserved it…but she didn't.

She shouldn't be punished because of his actions; she should be commended for her ability to give kindness to even the lowliest of creatures. She was an angel without wings; he was a demon without horns.

He hadn't deserved her, she hadn't deserved this.

xxx

Dakota had screamed and thrown a diva tantrum (the first one in a long time since she'd met Sam) when she heard the news, Lightning had said something along the lines of "SHA-NO!", Anne Maria had given the doctors a load of lip, Sam had lost it and run off in search for a pixelated heart hiding in a box or something like there always was on the games he played, Zoey had burst into tears whilst Mike comforted her, Staci had told another lie about her family (he hadn't been listening to what), Cameron had suggested they check again and Jo had said the same thing only in a more threatening manner, Brick had simply bowed his head muttering something about "the casualty of the war", and B…said nothing.

As for himself, he just sat down and placed his head in his hands. He'd been expecting this outcome, and normally he would enjoy being proved right, but not about this.

xxx

"_She was fading even before she got here, I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for her."_

xxx

He had lost a lot in his life and he was still just a young adult. His mother when he was a child, his sister when he was a teenager, his father when he was an adult, and now _her_ as well.

It was official, the Universe hated him.

Not that he could really blame the Universe for it, but he could blame it for choosing her instead of him.

Why couldn't it have been him?

He would have gladly gone, if it meant she got to live.

She deserved to live.

F*CK!

He hated the Universe…or Fate…or Karma, or whatever Divine Force was up there screwing with his life!

Fine! Screw up his life! He could live with that…or not, as the case may be. But screw with the lives of the people he cared about…oh it was personal!

He'd be damned if he went to church now! Not that he did in the first place but that was beside the point. The one time he'd actually gone to church was before Claire had died, he had prayed that she and her child would be delivered safely. Look how that had turned out. He was starting to believe that God had deliberately misinterpreted what he meant.

Still…maybe he could put his pride aside for now and make one last prayer, just for the sake of not wishing he had later.

xxx

"Dear Lord or Whatever-Divine-Force-Is-Listening, I know I'm not the most spiritual person out there, or morally inclined…heck! I have more in common with Satan than you! But this isn't for me…well, partly it is…but mainly it's for the fallen angel currently lying in the hospital bed that I'm looking at. Could you perhaps let her live…please? ….you know I don't say please unless I mean it. She doesn't deserve this, she is the purest person I've ever met with the biggest and kindest heart, and the most beautiful soul.

Seriously, I know she's annoying but she really doesn't deserve this…I know how I'm always asking for her to leave me alone but I never actually mean it. Please, please, please, with a cherry on top and sprinkles – and whatever else you like – could you just take me instead? I'd be happy to die…I mean, I'd rather not but if it's what it takes to save her then I'll do it…because life without her isn't worth living.

She's touched us all, and I mean all! That includes Chris. CHRIS! Believe me when I say we'll all be worse off without her. Dakota and Anne Maria are so upset that they don't even care that they're ruing their make-up! B is actually talking…or at least making sounds of grief! Jo is being sentimental, and Staci is confessing the truth! Trust me on this one; if you want to avoid pandemonium give us the Fairy Princess back!

TAKE ME INSEAD! TAKE FANG! TAKE SOMEBODY THAT ISN'T THE MOST AMAZING PERSON IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AND THE ONLY GIRL I'VE EVER AND WILL EVER LOVE! Please…just don't take her; I'm not ready to wake up in the morning without that bit of sunlight smiling at me…so just…please…okay?...Amen."

xxx

He ran his fingers through the waves of silver blonde that spread themselves across the pillow, memorising their silky feel as he knew this was probably the last chanced he'd ever get again. His other hand rested over her still one.

She looked so frail…felt so frail, so much paler than usual. It hurt to see her like this, someone usually so full of life so lifeless.

He leaned over and placed a soft kiss to her forehead with a gentleness that didn't match his rough personality.

Sighing, he pressed his cheek against the spot his lips had touched, the warmth of his own skin contrasting with the cold of her own.

He let out a heavy breath that tickled upon her eyelids, a whisper following it. "I love you, Dawn."

Glancing up at the window opposite he saw that the sun was starting to rise from the East. A sad smile graced his lips at the Aurora's tragic irony.

He really needed a cigarette.

.

.

.

"Scott?"

xxx

Scott had never believed in miracles. They were the stuff of fools.

He only had to look at his life to know miracles didn't exist.

And yet, when he looked a little closer there were at least three occurrences that could only be explained as miraculous.

One: Dawn Evergreen made Scott Davis a better person.

Two: He fell in love with her and she loved him back.

Three: February 20th 2013, 4.02 am – Dawn Evergreen came back to life.

Miracles were the stuff of fools.

But in that moment, Scott had no problem with being a fool.

xxx

He would like to say that his first words to Dawn when he looked to see her awake and alive were heartfelt, pure, loving and full of complete and utter joy at seeing her alive. He would also like to say that he was incredibly sexy and women loved him.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case…for either of them.

xxx

"Scott?"

He knew that voice; it was permanently etched upon his brain, there was no way he could mistake that sweet melody.

Dear God, he better not be hallucinating.

Slowly he looked to the face of the girl presumed dead and felt a jolt of bubbling glee (and he didn't even care how flamboyant that made him sound) electrify through him as his heart had what felt like a brief and rather pleasant cardiac arrest, and his eyes met wide-open, very much alive cerulean blue.

"Sh*t! I'm going to have to start attending church."

She just smiled.

xxx

"So you're telling me that after all that you still don't believe in miracles?" Dawn summed up, staring at him incredulously.

Scott shrugged. "One good thing doesn't mean none of that bad sh*t happened to me."

Dawn pursed her lips, frowning. "That sounds quite ungrateful. The spirits answered your pleas, you should be happy that we have a future not complaining about the past."

Scott rolled his eyes. Why did she have to be so annoying? Maybe he shouldn't have wasted his breath praying to God… but he knew he didn't mean that.

"What do you want me to do? Start worshipping them through your wacky rituals?"

Dawn's eyes narrowed at this. "No…I just…it's like you're not even happy I'm alive."

She looked down, a little forlornly and Scott sighed, realising he was going to have to get sentimental.

He ran a hand through his hair a little uncertainly. "Look, Dawn…I was going crazy when I thought you were going to die, I couldn't lose you…you're the most important thing to me and I'd sell my own soul for you to survive…you know, if I had one to sell."

Dawn snapped her eyes to his fiercely. "Don't you ever doubt that you have a soul, Scott Davis. I know you do; you're more human than you think."

Scott snorted at this. "This coming from the girl who couldn't read my aura… aren't auras supposed to basically be a person's soul?"

"I don't need to read your soul to read you, Scott Davis." Dawn told him, cupping his cheek and gazing up into his eyes. "The soulless can't love."

D*mn. She had such pretty eyes.

He quirked a small smile, and wrapped his arms around her waist, his forehead resting against her own. "I don't believe in miracles, Dawn. But I believe in us…I believe in love; and that is a far more powerful force."

She sighs softly and gives him a shining smile, the kind that makes him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, like he's eaten a Care Bear.

They stand there, silently. Just staring at one another, conveying messages with their eyes because words no longer need to be spoken.

"…urg, I'm going to have to brush my teeth five times to get rid of how cheesy that tasted."

And Dawn slaps him on the arm for ruining the moment.

"At least your toothbrush will finally get a good use."

xxx

"_Miracles occur naturally as expressions of love. The real miracle is the love that inspires them. In this sense everything that comes from love is a miracle._"

* * *

**Honestly, originally I had this as scrap but then I started writing another Dott fic (so maybe you'll be seeing that sometime soon…and soon is a month at least) and I went to look back at all my other Dott pieces of work and I found this and a few other pieces that I figured I might as well finish. So that explains why it's a bit…word I cannot think of at the moment…but yeah, I guess I just wanted to show how important Dawn is to Scott. Everyone has a weakness; I guess Scott's is Dawn.**

**I wish you many sunrises, and a dawn for every sunset.**


End file.
